


Five Times Sam Tyler Met The Doctor

by theprydonian_archivist



Category: Doctor Who, Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Crossover, Episode: s03e13 Last of the Time Lords, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-02
Updated: 2008-03-01
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7198670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprydonian_archivist/pseuds/theprydonian_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam hated not remembering something, especially when it was something that was potentially important. Crossover with Life on Mars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Prydonian](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Prydonian). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [The Prydonian collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/theprydonian/profile).

The First Time

Sam hated not remembering something, especially when it was something that was potentially important.

He remembered going to a bar last night to celebrate the solving of one bitch of a case. He remembered a tall, thin man wearing a dark pinstripe suit sit down next to him. He remembered how completely unfazed he had been by this.

He couldn’t recall what he and the man had talked about even though they had talked until closing time - chatting the night away as if they were old friends. He remembered the casual flirting they had done - the winks, the suggestive smiles, and way they freely touched each other. He even remembered feeling unusually bold as he pulled the man into the alley beside the bar for a quick snog.

He remembered asking the girl behind the desk of a seedy motel for a room and how she had blushed as the man kissed his neck when she wasn’t supposed to be looking.

The hungry, demanding kisses, the hasty and not-at-all careful removal of their clothing, how his partner for the night seemed to just know the most sensitive parts of his body and just the right way to touch them - all this was clear in Sam’s mind.

What stood out the most, though, out of the hours they had spent together, was the sound of the man saying his name.

"Sam Tyler." It was said so lovingly and desperately.

It wasn’t the tone the man used - he had been with many people who would use that tone, regardless of how they really felt. No, what bothered Sam, more than anything, was the fact he couldn’t remember giving the man his last name.


	2. Chapter 2

The Second Time

Gene was yelling.

Not the most pleasant sound to awaken to.

Sam slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurry but he could just make out the two figures beside his bed. The bigger blob had a smaller blob pressed against the wall in a very threatening manner.

"Gene?"

The two blobs looked over - the bigger trying to hide his relief and anger while the other grinned like an idiot.

"Lookie who’s awake!" The grinning blob slipped out from underneath Gene and leaned against the railing of the bed... railing? "Gave everyone a nasty shock, you did."

"...I know you..." Sam had seen this man before - he was just on the edge of his memory, hiding in the shadows.

"He’s the bloke that saved your life." Gene’s gruff voice informed him. "You bloody girl’s blouse pranced right in on the middle of a robbery and then you went after ‘em by your self."

Sam remembered it now. Some punk, barely an adult, holding a cashier at gunpoint as she filled a plastic bag with money. He had pulled out his badge and gun and the kid took off running. The alleyway behind the store was the last place he remembered. The kid had ran into the chain link fence at the end and had turned his gun on Sam. He remembered a blinding pain in his abdomen and being cradled in someone’s arms.

"He was getting away." Sam weakly defended himself, bringing himself away from the memory.

"And if this ponce hadn’t been there you’d be worse off than just a bullet in your gut." Gene grabbed the back of the man’s coat and pulled him away from the bed. "Be useful and get a nurse."

The man frowned, glowering slightly at the larger man, but left. Gene took the man’s place against the railing and stared down at Sam, almost accusingly.

"‘Ho was that?"

"Only met him once, I think. I was drunk at the time." Sam muttered, raising a hand to rub his eyes. "Can I get some water?"

"‘E was clinging to ya when we got there." Gene ignored the request for water. "Crying and going on about how he was so sorry and how he had let it happen again." Gene was watching him closely, eyes ready to take in any reaction Sam might have had. "Care to explain it then?"

Sam, completely and honestly didn’t know. He shrugged, wincing as the motion jarred parts of him that preferred not to be moved right now.

"‘Ho is he, Sam?"

"I don’t know... I really don’t." Sam paused. "The Doctor. He’s the Doctor."

"Doctor ‘ho?" Gene scowled.

"I don’t... just the Doctor."


	3. Chapter 3

The Third Time

"Oh, my God."

Sam looked up from the book-laden shelves he had been examining and turned to meet the gaze of a pretty dark skinned young woman behind him.

"Oh, my God!" she repeated, staring at him in disbelief and... fear?

"Can... I help you?" Sam asked warily, feeling distinctively uncomfortable by her reaction towards him.

"You died!" she exclaimed, ignoring his offer of help. "I saw it!"

"I’m sorry, but you must have me confus - " Sam paused as he looked the woman over again.

Modern clothing.

She was wearing modern clothing.

Sam felt his pulse start to race.

"Car accident?" he asked, swallowing against his suddenly dry throat. "Is that how I died? You saw the crash?"

Her expression took on a more confused air.

"N-no, you were shot." she said slowly, dark eyes watching him intently. "In the stomach."

Sam felt his heart drop in disappointment. The clothing was probably a figment of his imagination again or a very unnerving coincidence.

"Yeah, I was shot a few months ago." He nodded, turning his attention back to the bookshelves. "Just about here." He touched his right side. "Was it on the news? I don’t remember any reporters..."

"No, you were shot here." She poked him sharply on the other side of his stomach, making him jump in surprise. She grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face her. Completely taken aback, Sam could only let her manhandle him. She placed a hand on each side of his chest and closed her eyes, concentrating. Finally, she opened her eyes and met Sam’s completely bewildered gaze, shock once again on her face.

"Just one... but you look just like..."

"Oi! Gladys!" a large man shouted from the door of the bookstore. "If you and the Bird are done comparing cup sizes, we got a murder."

Blushing slightly, Sam stepped away from the equally blushing woman.

"I’m sorry, really, but I - "

"Martha!" a familiar, chipper voice cried from the back of the store. "You’ll never believe it! I found a copy of ‘The Complete Agricultural History of Ancient Greece’! I lost my copy centuries ago on the planet - Oh, hello, Sam Tyler." The Doctor smiled at Sam, lowering the thick book he had been brandishing excitedly.

"Tyler?" The woman - Martha, apparently - repeated, looking back at Sam in surprise. "Tyler?"

The Doctor looked a bit uncomfortable, ducking his head to watch his fingers as they ran over the spine of the probably extremely boring book.

"It’s a fairly common name, Martha." He seemed to pout before looking back up to Sam, manic grin back in place. "You’re looking much better." he noted. "Still have that brutish loud-mouth - "

"Gladys! Get your arse in gear!"

"Yep," the Doctor finished, still grinning. "Still here, I see."

"I... have to go," Sam said slowly, moving away from the two. "Murder case," he clarified before pausing, thinking. "I never thanked you." He looked back at the Doctor. "For saving my life. You left before I could."

"Oh, that." The Doctor waved a hand, dismissing it. "That’s nothing."

"Still... thanks." Sam nodded before heading toward the exit and a very irritated Gene.

"Was that..." Martha started to ask once Sam was smacked on the back of the head by the larger man at the door.

"If he was," the Doctor looked at her, expression serious and voice solemn, "would it matter?"

Martha just stared, wide-eyed and speechless, as ‘Sam Tyler’ disappeared into a car and out of sight.


	4. Chapter 4

His head was killing him.

Throbbing, brain-trying-to-escape-by-using-dangerously-high-explosives kind of throbbing. The yelling wasn't helping either.

“I demand to know what the fuck is going on, who the fuck you three are, and why a fucking lizard kidnapped my DI!”

“Well, the lizard is actually a host for the real kidnap - Ow, no shaking!”

“Mr. Hunt, put him down!”

“It's alright, Jack. Mr. Hunt - “

“DCI Hunt to you!”

“DCI Hunt, I can explain all this better if I wasn’t slammed against a wall with my feet dangling off the ground.”

“DCI Hunt, please, listen to the Doctor. We’re here to help.”

“She’s right, we mean no harm.”

“Can you all shut up for a bit? Horrible headache,” he interrupted, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Tyler!”

“Sam - ow!” There was a thud. Apparently, whoever was holding the other guy had dropped him.

Someone grabbed his shoulders and pulled his aching body into a sitting position.

“Tyler, you awake?”

Sam pulled out of the man’s grasp and opened his eyes. The man holding him was bigger than him and was blond. He would have had nice, light green eyes if he didn’t constantly glare at everything.

“I’m awake but have a nasty migraine so please, can it.”

“Why you ungrateful sod!” The man dropped him. “I ought to - “

The man was pushed out of the way by a thin, grinning man with messy hair.

“Sam! Good to see you again! Although, I would have preferred meeting you again over some tea or chips but the circumstances being what they are and all...”

“Doctor.” The woman he had heard before gently nudged the man away and smiled reassuringly at Sam. “You might not remember me, but I’m Martha. We met a few months ago. I’m a doctor - “

“I don’t,” Sam interrupted. “Remember you... any of you, in fact. Are you sure my name is Sam? I don’t feel like a ‘Sam’. Bit common, really...”

“You don’t remember any of us?” the guy Martha had called ‘Doctor’ questioned, frowning. “Not even the lout over there?”

“Not any of you,” Sam confirmed, ignoring the large man’s annoyed growl.

“What do you remember?”

Sam frowned and thought for a moment but no memories came up.

“Nothing.”

“Try harder,” the Doctor urged.

“Doctor, it might not be a good idea to force him - “

“It’s important, Martha! I have to know what the Wendigo did to him!” The Doctor turned his attention back to Sam. “Just concentrate - try to remember.”

“What the fuck is a ‘Wendigo’?” Gene loudly whispered to Martha and Jack.

“He explained it earlier.” Jack thought for a moment. “Something about American Indians, cannibals, werewolves, and them really being aliens that possessed humans.”

“A ship of them crashed in America during the 1500s and they possessed and ate people and local animals to survive.” Martha nodded but paused at seeing the disgusted looks Gene and Jack gave her. “What? I like mythology...”

“Could you three be more distracting?!” the Doctor scolded over his shoulder.  
Sam sighed and closed his eyes, waiting for the stage whispers to quiet.

After a few moments, something began to drift up through the fog of his mind.

Cold - freezing cold, soaking into his flesh, down to his bones. He tried to move, to wrap his arms around his body to get warm but he was tied - ankles, wrists, and neck - to a metal table.

“He’s seizing!” he distantly heard Martha shout.

“What the hell did you do to him?!”

“He’s having a seizure! Now get out of the way, Hunt!” Martha again.

”Increase the pulse by 25%,’ hissed a voice.

Pain coursed through him, fraying his nerve endings and vibrating his very bones.

“Reveal yourself!” the hissing voice yelled. “The scrambler will break your defenses eventually - painfully. End it now and reveal yourself, Time Lord!”

“I’m not the Master!” Sam’s eyes shot open, meeting one confused and three alarmed gazes before his vision went black.

* * *

His stomach lurched again, cramping as his cells destabilized and righted themselves, trying to hold onto his new form.

This was the first time he had ever had Regeneration Sickness and it was - by far - unpleasant.

He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled down the hallway, clinging to the railing that wasn’t there a few minutes prior. He followed the railing, knowing the Tardis, despite who he was, wouldn’t abandon a sick Time Lord.

The railing led him to one of the bedrooms. He stumbled into it, almost sobbing in relief as he fell onto the soft, warm bed. The Tardis seemed to be pouring positive energies into the room, soothing his regeneration wrecked body. He closed his eyes and tried to relax in the room but something was wrong. He could feel it, but couldn’t quite place it. It nagged at him for what seemed like hours before he finally figured it out.

Empty - that was it. The vast expanse of his mind was empty where it should have been full and bustling.

His stomach dropped.

“Time Lord. Last of.”

He reached out, feeling, searching for another - any other! - Time Lord mind but found none other than the one he had just left behind. Nothing. No one.

And in the now empty places of his mind, the Drums became louder.

* * *

He was handcuffed.

Which was really rather alarming when the last thing he remembered was having a drink with Gene in the Railway Arms. He was also being carried on someone’s back - his handcuffed hands draped around the person’s shoulder’s and neck so he wouldn’t fall off. The man was holding his thighs to help keep him up, although he was sure they didn’t need to be that close to his ass.

“Gene?” Sam heard his voice crack. “This isn’t one of your very bad pranks again, is it?”

The man carrying him started in surprise before stopping. A woman came into Sam’s field of vision, a finger pressed to her lips in the universal sign for silence. Sam frowned but nodded. The woman smiled and moved ahead of them to peek around the corner before motioning them for them to follow.

“I can walk,” he whispered in the man’s ear, maybe a little too hard as the man shuddered. “Sorry.” The man glanced over his shoulder with a look of surprise.

“In here,” the woman whispered, opening the door to a relatively unused storage room.

The woman closed the door behind them and helped Sam down off the man's back.

“I want to examine you before we continue,” the woman explained, smiling reassuringly though Sam could see doubt and fear in her eyes - it was in the man’s eyes too, though he was trying to hide it.

“Examine?”

“You had a seizure,” she explained. “It was a pretty violent one.” She took his face in her hands and tilted his head to get a good look at his eyes. “Have a history of seizures? Or anyone in your family?”

“Not that I know of, Martha.”

“You remember me?”

“Of course. Martha Jones.”

They stopped and stared at him, alarm and mistrust entering their expressions. The man’s hand was moving toward the inside of his old fashioned coat.

“Did I say something?” Sam asked, resisting the urge to fidget under their heavy gazes.

“How did you know her last name?” the man - Jack? - demanded.

“We’ve met before...”

“Yes, the bookshop but my surname wasn’t mentioned...”

“No, I’ve met you before that.” Sam nodded, remembering. “Martha Jones, Medical Student. Parents are divorced and you have a brother and sister...” Sam trailed off as the man pulled out a gun. “Jack, put the gun away...”

Jack cocked it instead and aimed at him.

“Master,” he greeted bitterly.

“What?”

“Drop the act.”

“What act?” Sam looked between the two, hoping for some kind of explanation but found nothing but coldness. “What’s going on?”

“Martha.” Jack didn’t take his eyes off Sam. “Call the Doctor. Tell him what’s happened.”

“The Doctor?” Sam repeated, watching in awe and hope as Martha pull out a cellphone. “Cell!” He tried to move closer but Jack blocked his way. “You have a cellphone! How? I-It’s 1973...”

The two exchanged glances before giving Sam a careful, calculating look.

“How do you know our names?” Martha asked cautiously.

“I’ve met you before...” Sam paused, trying to recall their previous meetings but drew a blank. “Haven’t I?”

“Yes, but you shouldn’t remember that,” Jack answered before looking back to Martha. “Doctor. Now.”

A few moments later, a loud beeping version of some annoying pop song sounded from outside the door. All three occupants of the room rolled their eyes.

“What the bloody ‘ell is that?”

“Phone.”

The beeping stopped.

“Hello?”

“Doctor. Is there a door behind you?” Martha asked, turning toward the door. “Go inside it.”

The door opened.

“What will I find in - Oh, Hello!” The Doctor smiled brightly as he and Gene entered. They paused, taking in the scene before them. His two companions on edge with one pointing a gun at a still confused and cuffed Sam. “Oh... miss something, did we?”

“God, Gladys, you can piss anyone off. It’s a talent!”

“Gene? Keys?” Sam held up his cuffed wrists.

“Can’t leave you alone for a minute.” Gene started to pull out his set of cuff keys.

“I wouldn’t do that, Hunt,” Jack said, keeping his gun on Sam. “Doc, he remembers who we are. Names, family, all that.”

“I told you, we’ve met before! True, I don’t remember when or where but we’ve met!”

“Memories are jumbled.” The Doctor looked thoughtful. “It’s okay, Jack, he’s safe. Confused, but safe.”

Jack didn’t look ready to believe him but he lowered the gun.

“Would someone please explain to me what the fuck is going on?” Gene seethed from the door.

“I think I can do that.” The Doctor squared his shoulders, his expression serious as he looked at Sam. “You’re not human.”

“What?”

“You’re not human. Well, you’re human now but you weren’t always. I hid you here, Sam, to protect you.”

“From what?” Sam asked softly.

“The Universe, mainly. You have a lot of enemies, Sam.”

“Now, wait one second!” Gene interrupted. “As fucking weird as Tyler is, there’s no way he’s an alien.” He turned his gaze to Sam. “Don’t believe any of this bollocks, do ya, Sam?”

“I... don’t know.” Sam looked back to the Doctor. “What species? If I’m an alien, what species?”

“Same as mine.” The Doctor’s expression saddened. “Time Lords. Last of them, we are... were. You’re human now...Sam?

Sam’s eyes had glazed over and he was trembling.

“Is it another seizure?” he heard Jack ask before he was pushed aside by Gene.

He felt someone grab his hands and uncuff them before he was lowered to the floor. The Doctor’s face floated into his line of sight.

“Sam? Can you hear me?” You’re having a vision - a flashback. It’s a side effect of the scrambler the Wendigo used on you. Don’t panic!”

”Hurry, got to hurry...” the Doctor was muttering to himself, racing around the still red tinted Tardis.

He was tied to a coral column near the door, he noted, watching the other’s display of hyperactivity in a daze. The door was open, he also noted. It lead to an old junk yard, a primitive vehicle parked a hundred or so yards away. He wrinkled his nose and looked back inside the Tardis. A few feet from him, a body was laying a few feet from him, wrapped in white linen.

“The ‘ell are you doing?” he groaned, too weak to say anything more clearly.

The Doctor looked over at him briefly.

“Saving you,” he said simply before banging on a few buttons on the console. A few more bangs with a small mallet and the thin man jumped away, yelling in triumph. He dashed over to where his weakened captive sat and pulled him to his feet. A quick flash of the sonic screwdriver freed the cuffs.

“Only have a few minutes.” The Doctor was muttering, half leading, half dragging him over to the console where a terrifyingly familiar helmet waited.

“No!” he yelled, pushing away from the other Time Lord. “I will not degrade myself again!” The Doctor grabbed him, easily overpowering his still recovering body.

“We don’t have time for this!” The Doctor pushed him down in front of the helmet. “This is the only way, Koschei,” he finished softly.

“Theta, no!” The helmet to the Chameleon Arch was forced on him.

“I’m sorry.” The Doctor placed a hand on the controls. “I love you.” He flicked a switch.

Sam’s vision cleared, the world slowly coming into focus. The Doctor was still in front of him. Sam wasn’t sure what expression he was currently wearing, but it caused the Doctor to look away.

“We should get to the Tardis,” the Doctor announced, standing.

“That fucked up Police Box you dragged me into?” Sam heard Gene ask as the man helped him stand.

“I think we’re close,” Jack said, peeking out the door. “Just need to move quietly - “

The room was cast into green tones as a blaring alarm sounded.

“Change that to quickly...”

“Can you walk?” The Doctor turned to Sam.

“I think so...”

“Run?”

“...yeah...”

“Then I suggest that.” The Doctor shoved the door open and motioned his more-or-less human companions down the hall.

“Dorothy, when we get back, I’m putting your arse on traffic duty for a year!”

“Nice to see you too, Guv.”

“Less bickering, more running.” The Doctor skidded to a stop as they turned the corner. The entire hallway was blocked by three large droids - each over ten feet in height and heavily armed. “Run the other way!”

“Intruders have been located. Request permission to destroy,” one of the droids said. “Permissions grated though original prisoner must be alive.”

“Fuck,” Jack and Gene hissed before grabbing the person nearest them and pushing them ahead of them, down the hall away from the attacking droids.

“Tardis! Need to get to the Tardis!” the Doctor commanded from the front, ducking as a red beam shot past his head.

“Where the hell is it then?!” Gene asked, pulling out his own gun and firing behind him.

“No guns! The bullets will just ricochet off and hit us!”

“Damn it!” Gene lowered the gun but didn’t move to replace it in its holster.

“We’re close!” the Doctor assured. “Just need to get in and out and we’ll go from there... HA!”

They entered a large room - cargo bay by the looks of it - and in the corner, the Police Box serenely sat, just where they had left it. Plus the small army of droids surrounding it.

“Oh...”

A large reptile-like humanoid figure stepped around the Tardis, the smell of decay hanging strongly around it. It looked sickly and dead, the scaled skin hung off the emancipated body and all three eyes were milky white. Black liquid dribbled from its lips.

“Time Lord,” it hissed, the smell of death increasing as it spoke.

“Oh, god.” Sam heard Martha gasp beside him.

“Give the Master to me and I may spare you and the humans,” the Wendigo hissed, running a chipped claw down the Tardis’s side.

“The Master is dead. As you should be.”

The alien roared in anger.

“Liar! He’s there! In that form! He reeks of the Master!” Gene stepped defensively in front of his DI. “Destroyed my planet! Laughed as he did it!”

“A planet you invaded and destroyed - you consumed all the inhabitants,” the Doctor growled. “That’s all you are, parasites. Infect innocent beings and consume them from the inside out, rotting them through. You sided against the Time Lords. It was war and you refused to surrender - your kind had to be stopped.”

“You will not deny me my revenge!” The creature growled, the black ooze bubbling up. It lifted a boney arm where a small device was strapped to the wrist.

“No!” The Doctor tried to lunge forward but the Droids shoved him back.

A soft ringing filled the air followed by a scream as Sam fell to the floor, clutching his head.

“Stop it! You’re going to kill him!”

“Yesss,” the Wendigo hissed. “When he returns to his true form, I’ll leave this husk and take his. A Time Lord body, new with plenty of Regenerations will last me a long time. The Wendigo will rise again, Time Lord, and the worlds will tremble - ARGH!”

The room was still reverberating from the gun’s blast. The creature was clutching the stump where the end of its arm used to be, the flesh and bone too weak to handle the bullet.

“He asked you nicely.” Gene lowered the gun, anger barely controlled as he stared at the alien.

“Inferior humans! Droids! Destroy them!”

“Command received. Destroy intruders.”

The droids swarmed around the small group, weapons aimed and humming as they powered up. They stopped.

“Command received. Self destruction. Ignore all other commands.”

“What?!” the Wendigo roared.

“Down!”

The Doctor pushed Martha down and helped shield her while Jack did the same with Gene who, surprised by the sudden turn of events, dropped the gun he was holding. There was a flash of light and a searing heat as the droids vaporized themselves. The Wendigo howled in rage.

“What the hell just happened?!” Gene shoved Jack off him and climbed to his feet. The Wendigo wasn’t paying attention to them anymore though. The three eyes were focused on the higher level of the cargo bay - or rather the staircase leading to it.

Sam was walking down them slowly, a smirk on his lips as he descended, hand lightly holding onto the railing.

“That was disappointingly easy. A child could hack into that frequency! You were just asking for someone to come and blow up your minions.” He scoffed. “They didn’t even explode as much as they disintegrated. I’m vastly disappointed.”

He paused at the bottom of the stairway to pick up Gene’s fallen gun.

“Master,” the Wendigo hissed.

“Mostly, yes. Still one heart - Don’t even think about it, freak.” He pointed the gun at a scowling Jack, smirking. “You might not be able to die but your three friends here can.”

The Doctor grabbed Jack’s arm to stop him from attacking. The Master smirked.

“Still think he needs a leash.” He turned his attention back to the Wendigo. “And you... what to do with you...” His expression darkened with each word. “As much as I appreciate you returning my memories to me... the method left a lot to be desired.”

He toyed with the gun for a moment. “Not my first choice but...” He quickly pointed the gun and fired. “Works well enough.”

“And now for you three.” The Master pouted thoughtfully. “No point in trying to kill you, Captain but that means we can play our games again. Isn’t that nice. Martha, I made a promise to you, didn’t I? Can’t be my first blood, I’m sorry to say.” He waved to the corpse just behind him. “Hope you’re not disappointed.”

“Stop this.” The Doctor stepped forward, in front of the humans. “Sam, stop it. This isn’t permanent; your memories will come back.”

“Oh, but they already have, Doctor.” The Master sneered. “Sam never existed. He was just a name to hide me behind. And giving me your girlfriend's last name is just a whole new level of pathetic, even for you.” He aimed the gun at the Doctor. “I think I’ll shoot you now. Nothing fatal, mind, but enough to get you to shut the hell up for a bit until I find my screwdriver. I liked you better as a gnome. I also have a feeling there’s a fob watch in your possession that would interest me...”

“Oh, come off it, Tyler!” Gene snapped, walking forward. The Master sneered and turned the gun toward him. Gene didn’t seem fazed. “I have no bloody idea what’s going on. Aliens and mind altering and all that but I do not that you’re too goddamn stubborn to let some glorified corpse thing change you.”

The Master fired the gun, the bullet going past Gene’s head.

“That was a warning shot. I will kill you,” the Master warned.

“No, you won’t, Dorothy.” Gene moved closer. “What is this? The ninth time you’ve pointed a gun at me?”

“Tenth,” the Master corrected softly.

“Whatever. Point is, you never shot me before - even when I did deserve it - no reason to start now.” The Master scowled, gun still pointed at Gene as he continued to approach.

“You think I won’t?”

“I know you won’t.” Gene paused, a few feet from the Master now. “But you are right about one thing. You’re not Sam.” He darted forward, grabbing the hand holding the gun and pulled the Master forward and punched him hard enough to knock him out. “Sam would have seen that coming.”

* * *

“The Tardis is re-sorting his memories,” the Doctor told Gene as they stood over Sam’s unconscious form. “He should be perfectly normal by the time he wakes up.”

“He won’t remember any of this?”

“He shouldn’t. May comment on a weird dream he had, but that’s all he’ll remember it to be.”

“And that Master bloke?”

“Safely locked away.”

“Good.” There was a pause. “If I ever see any of you ever again, I’m going to beat the living daylights out of you.”

“Fair enough.”

Sam blinked open his eyes and had a moment of brief panic.

Green bed sheets, ugly grayish green wall paper, uncomfortably small flat. Sam sighed and fell back on the bed.

“About time, Gladys.” Sam groaned. “Was waiting for two hours for your arse to wake up.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You passed out, you lightweight.” Gene was holding the bottle of scotch Sam had hidden. “Had to drive you home and everything.”

“And you’re still here why?”

“Missus doesn’t appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night.” He took a swig from the bottle. “Now get up before we’re late for work.”


	5. Chapter 5

All things considered, Sam had always thought himself a rational - if, he admitted, quite mad - man. Despite all that he had seen, all that he had heard - or thought he had heard - and all that had happened to him, he always had managed to reason with himself and justify his actions.

And at the moment, he was running down the street as fast as his legs could carry him, in the middle of the night... and he had no idea why.

He finally stopped at the end of the street. He clutched at the stitch in his side as he tried to calm his hammering heart, barely acknowledging the fact that he was still in his pajama bottoms and was currently shoeless.

He was close - he could feel it! There was a nagging feeling in the back of his head telling him to come here. It was what woke him up in the first place. That and the dreams – the horrifying, gut wrenching nightmares of so many terrible things that were somehow his fault. Dreams of a man with a changing face that showed love, hate, and hope toward him,... and of the man’s blue flying box. Dreams of red grass and two suns that felt more like home than either 1973 or 2006 ever had.

The dreams he had had been peaceful that night. Red grass and the childlike freedom he felt as he and another boy ran though it, clasping each other’s hand. The chaste kiss that followed when they finally collapsed into the tall grass, laughing.

The pleasant dream had abruptly ended with a flash of a burning city with its people screaming in terror as a pounding drumbeat roared and a voice screaming to him.

‘He’s coming! Go, quickly! GO!’

Now, Sam stood alone and half naked in the middle of the street - waiting.

Nothing happened.

Sam wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. A flash of light? The voice again, telling him what to do, where to go?

The wind blew a crumpled newspaper sheet across the road in front of him, mocking him with it’s activity.

Sam groaned and let his knees give out. He collapsed to the ground, ignoring the dew that quickly began seeping into the thin fabric of the bottoms, and pressed the heels of his hands against this closed eyes.

He had finally lost it. It was the only explanation! The dreams, the voices, his own irrational behavior. With another groan, Sam shifted his hands up to grip his hair tightly, pulling it in aggravation.

"I really am bloody mad." He laughed breathlessly, tears pricking his eyes. "Bloody daft, brain-damaged, a few good knocks on the head short of becoming a slasher movie villain mad."

Sam froze as the wind around him picked up suddenly and as a strange but oh-so-familiar sound filled the air. His hands dropped to his sides as he stared across the road to a fenced in yard.

A light!

Just over the fencing! It faded in and out of existence until it became corporal.

Sam stared at the light as it stopped flashing. He continued to stare as he climbed to his feet, gaze never wavering. He slowly walked forward, closing the distance between him and the fence.

Sam touched the fence hesitantly, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. Laughing again, he stepped away from the fence, heart hammering. Grinning, Sam backed away a few more steps before running toward the fence again, leaping up to catch the edge and pulled himself up and over.

He landed on the other side of the fence with a pained grunt as his bare feet landed on the pebble covered ground. He straightened and looked around, quickly spotting the light sitting on top of a large blue box.

He circled around the box, taking in all the details. Exactly like his dreams... exactly like he remembered.

He stopped at the doors, staring at the lighted yellow words above it. He slowly reached a hand forward and caressed the blue painted wood, as though it might vanish under his fingers. He felt the grain, sanded with age and stepped back with a triumphant laugh.

He took in the sight again, a grin plastered on his face. He grabbed the door handle and tugged.

It wouldn’t open.

Sam raised a fist and began pounding on the door.

"Doctor!" He pounded harder. "Doctor! Open the door! Doctor!"

Sam stumbled as the door in front of him opened before his fist could connect again. A thin man in a striped pajamas, long coat, and messy bed hair stood there.

"Blimey, you’ve got a pair of lungs on you!" the Doctor exclaimed, rubbing his eyes of sleep. "You could wake the dead, you could... Oh, Sam!" He interrupted himself, grinning at Sam. "I haven’t seen you in - !"

Sam punched him.

The Doctor stumbled back against the Tardis doors, holding his jaw and staring at Sam in shock.

"What was that for?! I don’t go around knocking people up just to punch them in the face! Not that I have a habit of punching people, mind, it’s quite rude. But if I didn’t I wouldn’t wake them up by banging on their door like a ravi- oof!"

Sam launched himself at the Doctor, hugging him tightly. The Doctor stumbled at the new attack before wrapping his arms around Sam comfortingly.

"I remember," Sam mumbled against the Doctor’s shoulder. "I’ve been dreaming it for months but I actually remember it now."

"Remember what?" the Doctor asked softly.

"Everything." Sam pulled back to look at the Doctor properly. "Gallifrey, the war, the year that you erased... the Master."

The Doctor nodded slowly, studying Sam.

"You’re not suppose to."

"I remember that too."

The Doctor looked Sam over again before stepping back to let Sam into the Tardis.

"How did you do it, Doctor?" Sam asked, walking up the metal grate ramp. "I have all of the Master’s memories. I can understand it."

"The Chameleon arch."

"I know that." Sam rolled his eyes before he could stop himself. "Sorry." He sat down on the jump seat and watched the Doctor close the doors. "How did you make Sam Tyler’s history? People here actually know him. Morgan knew him. The papers and all that can be faked but... memories? How did you create them?"

"I didn’t," the Doctor said simply. "Sam Tyler really did exist."

"But... the memories..."

"Modified." The Doctor shrugged. "The real Sam Tyler didn’t have any remarkable features. Easily forgettable. Just modified the memory of everyone who needed it then changed the files and what not to describe your appearance."

"What happened to the real Sam Tyler then?"

"Quite a few Sam Tyler’s exist. Two common enough names put together." the Doctor shrugged. "But in 1973 there were two Sam Tyler’s. A little boy who will one day group up to become a DCI but have a horrible accident that will leave him in a coma for almost two years. I gave you his memories."

Sam swallowed the lump that was forming in this throat as those said memories floated up to the front of his mind.

"And there’s a DI by the name of Sam Williams who planned to go under cover in another precinct with the name but was killed by a hit and run driver."

Sam nodded.

"The body I saw before you used the Arch on me... the one wrapped in linens."

The Doctor nodded. "You took his place."

"Then why give me the little boy’s memories? The Sam Tyler I’m supposed to be?"

"I had hoped it would confuse you,” the Doctor admitted, guilt lingering in his eyes. "I thought if you’re mind were too busy on other mysteries, it wouldn’t figure out who you were."

"The hospital sounds, Ruth Tyler’s voice...?" Sam asked. "The freaky girl off the telly."

"The Tardis projected the sounds and the little girl." The Doctor nodded. "More parts of the mystery I wanted you focused on."

"You bastard." Sam snarled, hands gripping the torn leather of the jump seat. "You fucking bastard."

The Doctor nodded. "Had to, Sam. Keep your mind occupied so the memories wouldn’t resurface... then you were kidnapped and forced to remember. I tried to fix everything again but..."

Sam nodded. "Didn’t work as well you hoped."

They were silent for a moment, each refusing to meet the other’s gaze as the Tardis hummed around them.

"We could try again," the Doctor offered. "Open your watch and when you’re well enough again, bring Sam back."

"This will just happen again." Sam shook his head. "I don’t know why but... even with the memories back, I can separate myself from them... keep the Master at bay. If we redo this, they will come back - sooner or later - and I won’t be in control and you might not be able to stop me..."

The Doctor nodded, knowing this was true.

"Then why did you come searching for me?"

Sam looked up, frowning.

"You called me."

"No, I didn’t." The Doctor stared back.

"Yes! You did." Sam stood up, walking toward the Doctor. "I was asleep but woken up by a voice telling me to come here."

The two stared at each other, trying to decide if the other was lying. The Tardis hummed and the Time Rotor glowed brighter. The two looked over to her.

"She called you." The Doctor smiled sadly. "My crazy ship." He placed a hand on the console.

"I can’t stay," Sam announced. "There’s no way I can. I have a life now. Gene, Anne, everyone. I can’t just leave them."

"Quite right." The Doctor nodded. "Wouldn’t be a good idea anyway," he added. "If the Master returned, he’d have access to the Tardis."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"Although..." the Doctor started, trying to look nonchalant but failing. "This is a Time Machine..."

"Even if just a mediocre one." Sam smiled.

"Would be irresponsible to just let you wonder off by yourself without knowing the extent of your control over your worse half..."

Sam nodded, trying not to smile now. "Suppose so."

"Should stick with you for a while... just in case."

"You should."

"But you don’t want that, do you."

"No. I made my choice."

The Doctor nodded.

"Well, Sam Tyler, it was nice to see you again."

"You too, Doctor."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Suppose a few trips couldn’t hurt," Sam finally said, smiling slightly.

"Suppose not." The Doctor agreed, grinning, before bouncing back and running around the console.

Sam gripped the railing beside him as the Tardis entered the Time Vortex. The Doctor held onto the console and grinned over to Sam.

"Welcome aboard, Sam Tyler."


End file.
